You Don't Need A Reason
by Thessian Shadow
Summary: "He has pain to kill; I hope he realizes it will kill him before he kills it."


**You Don't Need A Reason  
><strong>_Chapter 1: Pain To Kill_

**A/N:** Ok, back in the Fanfiction business It's been awhile since I could really start thinking like this again. Anyway, this one is another that will fall in my favorite ship. This Is going to be a Jake/Grace fic, so if you prefer Jake/Ney, I suggest you don't read unless you're flexible.

**Disclaimer:** JC owns everything. Sadly, I do not.

**Summary:** Takes place during the 3 month window where Jake is trying to persuade the Omatikaya to leave: What is it that he is trying to ignore? It is a secret that is well known to the more involved Avatar drivers, including our resident overworked scientist. Jake has to deal with it, but is his method working, or will it kill him? Pressure builds, making things worse as the clock threatens to run out on Hometree and the Omatikaya clan.

**Warning:** In later chapters, Na'vi will be used, so I suggest you download the dictionary and prepare to look things up, though I will have translations for those who don't know or want to learn this language. Enjoy!

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><p>The last week had been more or less stressful. Tension was in the air in the small space at Site 26, and all four occupants had been at each others' throats at one point or another. The RDA was closing in, threatening to destroy the Na'vi if any other altercations occurred between the two factions. Jake and Trudy were being pressured to get all the information Quaritch was asking for, Norm was caught between the two sides, and Grace was pressured to find a peaceful solution, which right now, seemed impossible. As the four regrouped within the small space, they found that tonight was no different.<p>

Jake and Grace had finished their respective video logs, stating basically that there was no change in the tension between the RDA and the Omatikaya. Jake had added that it seemed Neytiri had gotten closer to him, if that was possible, and that he had avoided a run in with a thanator late in the evening. The former of the two pushed back from his camera, turning toward his bunk. It was high time he got a shower, though he wasn't really looking forward to it. This was more of a chore than a luxury these days. Moving slowly, Jake reached his bunk, propping open his foot locker to retrieve his clothes. He removed his shirt, tossing it into his clothes bin and turned his chair back toward the showers. He saw that Trudy was coming out of his next destination, shaking her hair loose. She looked better than she had earlier, which was saying a lot since she had come from Hell's Gate. Nodding to her, he entered the showers, choosing a stall without much thought. Trudy had paused once he had passed her, staring at him as Jake disappeared behind the shower curtain. Looking back, she saw that the other two had matching looks of concern and shock on their faces. Grace's was marred by her frustration and agitation.

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><p>Entering the outer stall, Jake dropped his clothes onto the outer bench, choosing to remove his shoes and socks out there, rather than in the inner stall. Pulling his leg up from its resting place, he jerked off his shoe and then his sock. Letting his bare foot hit the bar where it usually rested hard, he didn't even flinch at the sound anymore. Repeating the action with his left foot, he placed his socks in his shoes and put them up on the bench with his clean clothes. The hard part came next. He gripped the shower bench in the inner shower, pulling his chair toward it. Reaching a close enough distance, he pushed himself out of the chair, making it onto the bench without ending up in the floor. Feeling his arms ache with the work, he pushed on, starting to remove his faded grey jeans. Fumbling with the button, Jake cursed inwardly at his shaking hands. Finally getting them undone, he worked on getting them off. Holding himself up with one hand, he worked on one side, pulling them down off his hip. Then he did the same thing with the other one. Eventually, he got them out from under himself, and all he had to do was pull them down and ease his feet out of the legs. Getting them into his hand, Jake folded them up, tossing them out onto the outer bench along with his other clothes. Repeating the struggle with his boxers, Jake finally did the same, folding them up, and tossed them out on top of his jeans. Finally clothing free, Jake reached up, seizing the valve that controlled the water, and turned it so that the water would be released. Turning it a bit further, he adjusted the temperature. Feeling the water heating up, Jake looked down, picking up the bottle of gel soap that had been here since they had left Hell's Gate. Popping the top, he got a decent amount on his hands, replacing the bottle. As he moved his hands through his hair and over his upper body, Jake remembered why he hated showering these days. Touching his own body sent shivers down his spine and made his muscles protest. His chest, back, arms, and abdomen burned at his slightest touch. It was then that he re-affirmed just how bad this was getting. He wasn't sleeping properly, he hardly ate, despite Norm, Trudy, and Grace's protests to his eating habit, and he was running himself ragged. These three things he was perfectly aware of, but he didn't do anything to change them.<p>

Leaning forward, he let his body slump forward as the water ran down his back and front, removing the white-blue suds from his skin and hair. Feeling the last of the suds slipping down his chest, Jake started on his lower half. Picking up the now slippery bottle, he coated his hands in the clear-blue soap, proceeding to get it all over his legs and lower waist. Once that was done, he reached up, holding onto a rusted towel rack that had been cemented or welded into the stall. Pulling himself up, he let the water run down him completely, getting his lower half clean and soap free. Letting the soap run down to the drain, Jake eased himself back down, but his foot slid, causing him to scratch at the wall, hoping to grip onto anything that would save him. His heart sped up quickly as he kept reaching and grasping nothing. Finally, he reached his towel, which was resting on another towel rack. Gripping both ends that were hanging over the rail, he tried to pull himself up, but the rail, rusted through and through, snapped, bringing him and the broken piece crashing to the floor. Feeling his back hit the tiled floor, he pushed his hands up behind his head in an attempt to stop his head from making such an impact. Not reacting quickly enough, he felt his skull collide with the bench, slip off, and hit the floor, where it rested.

"Fuck!" Cursing hoarsely as his chest and lungs felt constricted, Jake looked up at the broken towel rack, remembering that it had been flimsy for awhile. "Why didn't I just keep hold of… the one I had…" The air wasn't coming in as well as it should have been as he was breathing rapidly. Feeling the towel hitting his lower half, he looked up. He didn't have much time to think on his situation. The blue-white fluorescent light above him was getting brighter and clouded. Trying to sit up, his head and body protested too much, and he was left to look back up, feeling his world spiral away from him as darkness eased over him, decreasing his vision. Feeling the cracked and cold slick tiles against his body, Jake couldn't even reach up to cut off the water. It still rained down on him, hot, and the steam was still billowing from over the curtain rod. Blackness replaced the overly bright light, and he lost all sense of where he was, succumbing to his pain and the shock of falling as he did. Jake knew no more.

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><p>Out in the open space beyond the showers, Norm and Trudy were having what appeared to be a staring contest, just looking at each other, and both were blinking rapidly now, their eyes having dried from the moments left open without relief. Grace was standing at the window, looking out at the bioluminescent world beyond this slight prison. Normally, this would have been her escape, taking in the world she was willing to die for, but tonight, it seemed, this was more of a distraction. Hearing movement, she looked in the glass, seeing Trudy straighten up. When she spoke it was with a slightly tired yet concerned tone.<p>

"We all saw that, right?" It was the question that had been on all their minds since Jake had departed for the showers. Nodding solemnly, Grace turned, seeing Norm nod in a similar fashion. He beat her to speaking, though.

"Yeah… Did you see how pale he looks?" He had been right. In her brief glance, Grace had seen the black tattoo that snaked down Jake's shoulder and arm against his pale skin. It stuck out terribly. She had also seen just how thin he was getting.

"Yeah. That can't be good for him." Trudy had echoed Grace's thoughts as she said this. "He really needs to eat more and sleep a lot more than he is." She looked over at Norm, who was looking from Jake's bed to the entrance to the showers.

"His clothes basically hang off of him." At this, Grace let a short and cold laugh escape her. Norm turned, giving her a questioning look. "Something amusing?"

"No." Her tone didn't match the short-lived laugh. It was more thoughtful and calculated. "Just thinking…"

"About?" Trudy crossed her arms, facing the tired scientist. Grace sighed discretely, choosing to not raise her eyebrows.

"He was like that when he got here. He was pretty thin two and a half months ago." Her eyes darted to the clock and back to the other two occupants in the room. "This will break him…"

"No kidding. What can we do to change that? He's not listening to anything." Norm said this, scratching his head thoughtfully. "It's like he's trying to run himself into the ground."

"I have no doubt that's what he's doing." Grace turned back to the window, watching a stray fan lizard that they were observing. "He'll do anything to feel something in this body. We've all gone through it if we've been here long enough, well those of us who despise our human counterparts." She added this a little darkly and more to herself than anyone else, though they heard it. "He'll do whatever he can to feel anything, even pain, in this body. If he doesn't address it, it will kill him."

"Speaking from personal experience." Trudy said this, and Norm noted that it wasn't a question, but a confirmation. Grace nodded at the statement.

"Yeah. You remember."

"Do I ever. That's a conversation I don't think I'll ever forget or repeat for that matter." Trudy looked up at the clock, seeing the hour. "Damn. I've got a sweep I have to do. Almost forgot about it."

"Want some company?" Norm asked this as Trudy pulled down her flight jacket and helmet from the shelf near her bunk. She was near the exopacks when she answered.

"Always." Pulling down two exopacks, she tossed one at him, and they headed out the airlock. "Back in thirty, boss." Seeing Grace's nod, they left, securing their masks before stepping out into the toxic Pandoran air.

Once they were gone, Grace turned her back on the Shack, continuing to look out the window. Seeing Trudy's Samson take off, she could see the two occupants laughing about something. Not resisting the urge, she rolled her eyes. It had been dead obvious from the moment that they met that those two would wind up together. Their late night flights and time spent alone in the shack while she and Jake were still out with the Na'vi was enough of a clue that they had cemented their relationship by now. Hearing something, she turned. It sounded like water flowing.

Finally leaving the window, Grace stepped toward the showers. She saw water pooling on the floor outside the shower stall that was in use, and it was curious to say the least. Stepping closer, she heard the shower still running and thought it sounded like the falling water was hitting more water that was standing, not going down a drain. Getting a strange feeling, she placed a hand against the outer face of the shower stall.

"Jake? Jesus Marine, what's going on in there?" Receiving no answer, she waited a second, straining to hear a sign of movement. There was nothing. "Jake…" Still nothing. Looking through the gap in the curtain, she saw that his chair stood empty in the outer stall, his clothes still there, and there was no shadow against the other curtain separating his chair from the shower. "Jake? Damnit." Pulling back the curtain, she stepped closer, feeling the water as it made the floor slick as oil. Looking through the slight gap in the interior curtain, what she saw made Grace freeze. Thankfully, the initial shock wore off quickly. Pulling back the soaked curtain, she was greeted with his unconscious form on the floor. Stepping in, she wrenched the valve so that the water was cut off. Taking a second to really look at him, she saw his right arm at an odd angle. His head was turned, revealing a bloody pattern of squares where his head had apparently hit the floor. Looking up, she saw the snapped towel rack, and looking back down, she saw the broken off part still clutched in his left hand. As her eyes traveled down his body, she saw that the grey, now turned charcoal, towel barely covered his lower waist.

Minding her footing, she knelt, placing her hands under him, and moved his body off of the drain. The water started vacating the shower stall immediately, but Grace was somewhat surprised at how easy it was to lift him. Remembering just how thin he was made her reconsider, and keeping the joints loose on the avatars by moving their limbs was another factor in her strength. Replacing him on the floor for the moment, Grace stood, exiting the stall, and took down two towels from the small stockpile. Returning, she kept one folded, placing it under his head. Using the other one for its typical intended purpose, his body slowly was dried. Looking over the head wound as she did his lower body, Grace frowned.

"He's not waking up from this in the very near future…"

Deciding to at least get his boxers and pants on him, Grace went to work, easing the clothes onto his motionless body. Getting his boxers up to his waist, she was able to concentrate on his head injury again. It looked as if the rugged tiles had broken the skin, but there was no real way to tell the full scale of the damage with him out of it. He would have to gain consciousness and speak or act, that way it would be easier to tell if anything had happened aside from the breaking of his skin. She was sure that there was damage, minor though it might have been. Easing his clean pants on as he had the boxers, she left it at that. He usually slept with a shirt on, but tonight would be an exception. Keeping the towel pressed against the back of his head, Grace lifted him off the floor, rising to her feet again. Leaving the shower stall, she decided against worrying with his wheelchair. It would be more of a hassle anyway. She set her sights for his bunk, wondering just what damage may have been done.

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><p>Nothing but black met him. He was lying in water, water that was slowly growing cold as the hot water regulator kicked in and turned the once comforting water to icy rain as it came down. Suddenly it stopped, and he heard movement. The aches that had been ravaging his body were instantly gone as a pair of hands eased their way beneath him. Feeling himself rising slightly, he felt the cold water leave his skin, and it was replaced by the grainy and patterned tile floor. Whoever it was had gone, having lay him back down. Seconds, or maybe minutes later, he couldn't tell, he heard the footsteps and then felt a slightly warm towel being pressed against his head, easing the throbbing that had just started. Feeling another towel easing its way over his body, Jake wanted to speak, to make some sound, but he found he didn't have the energy. Instead, he just lay there, motionless, feeling his skin dry. He then felt clothing being eased onto his body. This was odd, but appreciated all at the same time. He didn't much like being stark naked in the shower without control of it. Once his pants were on, he heard a voice, barely though, as if it were coming through a wall of water. He couldn't make it out, so he just went along with it when he felt his body being lifted clear off the floor.<p>

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><p>Moving through the small space and across the short distance, Grace reached his bunk, easing back the blanket, before placing his body down against the brick-like mattress. Hearing a slight groan, her eyes darted to his face, but she saw nothing that indicated that he was fully conscious or awake. All there was a slight twitch in his facial muscles. Releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, she took a moment to examine his body. There seemed to be no other damage from the fall. He had a bruise that would no doubt form on his back, shoulders, and head at least, but that was all. Easing her hand over his left arm, she checked to see if there was anything broken. Nothing seemed to be. His wrist was a little twisted from where he had landed on it, and it was starting to turn an odd color. Taking it into her hands, she saw that it was indeed twisted, almost popped out of joint. Gritting her teeth as if she expected to feel the pain herself, she eased it back into the right position, hearing a satisfying pop. A shiver ran through her at the sound, and she could see that he felt it. Tightening her hold on his hand for a moment, she replaced it by his side, examining his left hand and arm. Nothing seemed wrong there except for a long scratch from where he had hit the jagged edge of the shower bench on his way down. Having examined his back while getting him from the shower to his bunk, she had felt no abnormalities, aside from the knot where his original spinal injury had paralyzed him.<p>

Moving to his shoulders, they didn't look abnormal, and easing her fingers along the bones, they didn't feel damaged. He'd be sore as hell tomorrow, though. Thinking of this, the frustrated frown re-appeared on her face. He was dealing with enough shit as it was. Why did this have to happen? Putting that thought away for the moment, Grace replaced the blanket over him, leaving the towel, though slightly unfolded so as not to cause a pain in the neck, at the base of his head. The blood had stopped flowing; probably clotting in the cold water earlier, but she didn't take any chances. Returning to the window, she saw the Samson returning, its pilot and passenger stepping out.

"He has pain to kill; I hope he realizes it will kill him before he kills it."

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><p><strong>AN 2:** As with my other stories, I can't give you all a timetable on how long it will take to update this. I'm working on this one, Untitled (which will have a title after revision) and a few others. See my profile for latest news on current projects. Also, I'm working on a book right now, so that may take up some of my time.

Cheers!


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